


SU WANTED AU: On the Run

by queenkorri



Series: SU WANTED AU [1]
Category: Steven Universe (Cartoon)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Bandits & Outlaws, CPTSD, Coming of Age, Connie-centric, Dealing With Trauma, Demisexuality, F/M, Gender Exploration, Intrusive Thoughts, Magical Realism, Other, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Puberty, Rating subject to change, Road Trips, Social Commentary, Teen Romance, adding tags as I go, complex post traumatic disorder, intimacy of all kinds, let's fall in love and dismantle the government together, lots of pov switching, non-graphic descriptions of abuse, the kids are v touchy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-30
Updated: 2020-09-30
Packaged: 2021-03-07 21:48:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 18,833
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26734612
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/queenkorri/pseuds/queenkorri
Summary: Steven and Connie meet with a bang. Quite literally. After a night of no sleep, Connie hits Steven with her truck. After he introduces Connie to Cactus and convinces her he doesn't need to go to the hospital, Connie offers to take him to her hotel room to check for herself. On the way there, Connie is able to coax Steven into explaining just what he was doing wandering in the middle of the desert with a cactus dog. After learning the truth, she’s more convinced than ever that Steven needs help, and not the medical kind. Connie, who has never broken a rule in her life, agrees to help Steven, an alien fugitive, get back to Beach City, no matter what. Even if everything doesn’t go as it should-Steven isn’t the little boy he was six years ago. Soon, he’ll learn just how much Beach City has changed too…OrSteven escapes after six years of wrongful imprisonment. Connie travels the country alone. Both are in need of a friend.
Relationships: Connie Maheswaran/Steven Universe
Series: SU WANTED AU [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1945846
Comments: 16
Kudos: 79





	1. Hit and Stow a Runaway (Utada: Day 1, Month 1)

**Author's Note:**

> And so, this great adventure begins! Many of you know that this project has been a labour of extreme love, Bud and I are so excited for the rest of this journey and for you all to see the things we've come up with <3 If this is the first time you're hearing of this AU, welcome! It's gonna be a long crazy ride 
> 
> Also shout out to DepressedCarrot for looking this over and joining me as a writer for this project! I appreciate you so much, fam! You can find them on tumblr at connversetheuniverse.tumblr.com

It had all happened so fast. 

Connie knew better. She _truly_ did. Her mother was a **doctor** for goodness sake! The distinguished and ever practical Priyanka Maheswaran had warned her daughter against doing this **_very thing_ ** before her trip. Hindsight was 2020 after all...and, well, she’d never had perfect vision anyway, if her drying contacts and the glasses in her glove compartment were any indication...

For all the preparation she did, (all the mapping, all the minute to minute scheduling, the food prep, etc.) she really should have known better than to drive straight through the night like she had. She didn’t _mean_ to, it definitely wasn’t part of the plan! Connie had fallen behind schedule (it turned out there was more to the SouthWest than just endless desert) and in an effort to catch up (and work out her insomnia), she decided to drive to her next destination. 

At three in the morning. 

Which probably wasn’t the smartest idea, no matter how much sense it made schedule-wise. She was traveling alone after all, and really ought to have been more careful. But, by the time she came to that realization, the sun was peeking over the horizon (the sky was still dark but the 5:22am flashing on her dashboard gave away its impending arrival). Either way, her hotel was only a few hundred miles away at this point. She might as well-

**_THUMP!_ **

Connie had hit something. 

“Arrrghh...”

Scratch that. Connie had hit _someone._

Connie, nearly eighteen, recently graduated valedictorian currently touring the United States visiting her top college picks, and overall safety nerd had **_hit_ ** someone. **_With her truck._ **

That wasn’t going to look good on her transcript. Or any record of hers, actually.

Releasing the steering wheel from her death grip and blinking the sudden tears out of her eyes, the girl scrambled out of her truck. A waterfall of “I’m so sorry!” and her insurance information tumbling from her lips only to stop short at the sight in front of her. 

A boy. 

Not much older than her, if not the same age. His skin was burnt by the sun but otherwise, he looked fine. Or at the very least, didn’t look like the thing that had gotten intimate with the grill of her truck... Did he possibly see what it was that she hit? Anxiety rose in her chest as every worse case scenario volleyed for her attention. Her mind pestered her with panicked thoughts of, 

_‘What if he calls the cops on you?’_

_‘What if you’re just hallucinating? You really shouldn’t have eaten that three day old thai food for dinner and then not sleep...’_

_‘Is_ **_he_ ** _an undercover cop??’_

She shook her head, chasing the thoughts off to a dark corner of her brain to dissect at a later time. Connie was determined to find the victim to her reckless driving and would let nothing distract her from making things right. Decidedly ignoring this new person and the weird feelings he brought up, ( _What was he doing out here all by himself in the middle of nowhere anyway?_ ) she continued to look about her truck until her eyes fell upon a figure at the boy’s feet-

Wait.

Was that-?

A _cactus??_

_What was going on?!?_

The mysterious stranger picked up the… cactus... _animal_ hybrid(?), seemingly unaffected by the spikes littered along it. He situated the succulent underneath his arm before holding out a cautious hand to the confused driver in front of him.

* * *

The first sign of a road in days, of civilization and _of course_ Steven was far too tired to register that fact until it was too late. The young man didn’t think he’d run into another person so soon (or be _run into_ ), especially a civilian. 

“Wait, please don’t freak out! We’re harmless, we swear!” The strange boy eked out, looking very much like a frightened deer in the light of Connie’s high beams. The girl herself took that opportunity to look over the other human and truly register their presence (especially, since she wasn’t even sure who or _what_ she hit). Though the strange, deep fuchsia of his eyes hinted at something _other_ than human.

Okay, seriously, _what was going on??_

“Umm,” The befuddled girl began inelegantly, “What- who-?” All the questions she had threatened to rush forward and spill involuntarily from out her mouth. Taking a deep breath (and remembering her manners), Connie tried again, 

“Um, are you… okay? Did I... hit you...?” Connie toed the line between properly cautious and cresting concern. The longer she found herself in this situation, the weirder it became. There was a mystery here and self proclaimed sleuth that she was, the curious teen was finding it hard to not get involved. Trying her hardest to be responsible like her mother would want and not dive into the thrill of uncertainty that filled the air. 

“What?” The stocky boy finally responded, a far away look of his own dissipating as he registered her question, 

“Oh. Yeah! I mean- it's okay!” And in Steven’s case, it really was. The dull ache from the impact was fading already. However, the uneasy look on the girl’s face encouraged him to further reassure her. He wasn’t sure why, but he felt undeserving of such kindness, even in passing. If this person had any idea the trouble he caused, who he really was… 

With everything that happened in the past six years, he _himself_ barely knew who he _really_ was...

“I don’t feel bad or anything, ‘tis barely a flesh wound, my good friend!” Steven tried for humour, but could feel the awkward tension filling between them despite his attempt. 

Could feel this stranger’s eyes boring a hole into his poorly concealed Gem, thinly veiled by the material of his boiler suit …

Steven needed to be careful; to play this as smartly as possible. He’s glad that the first human he’s managed to find in the past three days is relatively harmless in comparison to the ones he’s sure have set out a country wide search for him. Still, his desert wandering meant he hadn’t been near any cities and wasn’t updated on much. Flashes of his face and name plastered all over every television screen, news stand, radio and social media app he knew existed bombarded his mind suddenly, spiking his anxiety. The sight of his gem could very well give away his identity and ruin his chance at freedom. Which is why walking around with it exposed only typically happened in the height of heat, but _obviously_ , he had gotten too comfortable. _Did someone catch a glimpse of it somehow?_ His thoughts swirled and mixed together indiscriminately as he clutched at the clothed jewel embedded in his gut.

All that time alone, delirious in the desert; barely surviving... 

If someone had seen him, seen his _gem_... 

Would they really have left him there? 

Would they really rather turn him in than make sure that he was alright, that he was _alive_?

Connie scrutinized the person in front of her further, taking in the odd looking uniform; the dirt and sand that caked up at the hem of his pants and in several other areas. From the looks of it, he hadn’t seen a bed or shower in _days_.

And she’d just crashed into him.

“Are you sure?” Connie asked, more conviction leaking into her tone as the image to the puzzle in front of her became more clear. Her already weak resolve to leave this mystery unsolved, weakening even further (barely existent at this point). This stranger was obviously lost with no way of knowing how to get to his destination...

“Yeah, I’m fine!” The strange boy answered quickly, trying and failing at nonchalant conversation as he desperately searched for an out, “I really should have been watching where I was going! I mean, how did I miss this big road _right_ in front of me?” The boy laughed nervously, his pink eyes ( _pink_ , _just like the rock in his torso, everything about him was a_ **_dead_ ** _give away…_ ) turning towards the long road. 

“Speaking of,” The travel weary man continued in a slightly forced, friendly tone, “You wouldn’t happen to know which direction Del-” Steven cut himself off. 

He definitely should _not_ tell this person his destination, no matter how genuine (or pretty, but that was besides the point) they seemed. The less they knew, the better. For everyone involved.

“Ummm, I mean, _deeelllllll_ nearest city! Yeah? Yeah, which way is... _del... nearest city_?” He finished lamely, poorly covering up his slip. The boy barely managed to keep from face-palming, choosing instead to adjust Cactus under his arm. She was being all squiggly for some reason. 

In the short amount of time that he’d known (and created) the succulent, she was usually more than content to be in Steven’s arms. Unlike a certain pink feline he knew (and missed every day). Now, however, she was oddly restless. Even though her needles didn’t bother him much, the excessive movement was getting to be a bit tiresome.

“I know, girl. We’re just gonna get some directions and we’ll be on our way, okay? No more wiggling please!” He pleaded.

The plant-animal hybrid only continued to wiggle and push her way out of his grip until she was able to release herself; her hybrid companion unable to hold on any tighter out of fear of hurting either of them. 

Steven was incredibly strong, Cactus was incredibly pointy; unstoppable force meet immovable object. 

After she plopped to the ground with a soft thud, Cactus bound over to Connie’s feet to happily yip at her once again; as if to introduce herself. This time as the plant-animal approached, Connie crouched to examine the fascinating creature. Steven noted the lack of apprehension with the raise of a confused eyebrow.

If the person in front of him were a cat, she would have been killed and satisfied many times over just within the last few minutes. 

“Sooo, who’s this?” Connie asked curiously, carefully holding out her hand for the cactus to sniff at. Connie had to admit upon closer inspection, that as strange as it was seeing an actual succulent walking around and... _barking,_ the animal hybrid was _absolutely_ adorable.

It was then in that moment that said hybrid licked her outstretched hand, causing Connie to yelp in alarm as the needles prodded against her skin.

“Ow!”

“Oh gosh! Are you okay?”

And, suddenly, all she could see was sunburnt skin and glowing pink irises as the stranger took her hand and examined it carefully. He gingerly turned her palm one way, then the other.

_'He’s so gentle…’_

Her eyes examined his face while he looked on at her injured hand. Connie took in the stubble that speckled all along his features, his button nose, eyes the color of the sweetest cherry blossom… It was only a moment. The same moment in which everything else fell away and all she could focus on was this mysterious boy that incited a thrill in her that she has never felt. 

Ever. 

The larger of the two let out a sigh of relief before crouching to eye level with his plant companion, exiting Connie’s bubble of space just as quickly as he’d entered it.

“You’ve got to be a bit more careful, girl!” Steven reprimanded delicately. He gingerly stroked her prickly skin at the Cactus’ apologetic whimpers and puppy dog eyes, “I know, I know... you’re excited!”

The mystified girl looked on, still a bit dazed from… she honestly wasn’t entirely sure just what... The truck’s idle engine thrummed in the silence between them. Normally, the sound would grate at her paranoia as a waste of gas. Right now though, it was merely the soundtrack to Connie’s impending revelation. Steven didn’t know whether or not he wanted to be around for that.

“Um-” Connie began to speak, though realized quickly she had nothing to say. 

Well, that wasn’t... entirely true. 

It was more like she had _too_ much to say, but wasn't sure how to say it. The highschool graduate prided herself on her intelligence and skill in deduction, but for each explanation her mind came up with, she had two other questions to follow. She’d also realized that the person in front of her hadn’t really answered any of her questions, evading her at every turn.

She didn’t even know his name.

And against her better judgement, against the advice of her mother, family and every travel guide she studied,

“Do you need a ride?” 

She asked him that.

Because it was _obvious_ this person hadn’t been through the best of days, _obvious_ how nervous and skittish they were.

_Obviously_ , in need of a friend.

The figure in front of her had visibly tensed at that question, the smooth air of avoidance abruptly turning thick with tension. He looked up at her slowly, his eyes taking a gradual, deliberate path up her figure before landing on her face. An odd look flashed across his features as he blinked owlishly.

“W-what?” He whispered. Had he heard her right? There was no way she just-

“Do you need a ride?” She said again, this time with much more firmness in her voice. Before she could give him proper time to refuse, this complete stranger reached out her hand again, this time, towards him. 

“I mean, obviously, you do or else you wouldn’t be out here getting hit by half asleep drivers,” The half-joking remark was accompanied by a teasing giggle, the sound of which caused Steven’s heart to soar without warning. The anxious boy quickly brought himself back down, almost wanting to stamp out the long withered feeling.

It’d been a long time since he felt such a commotion in his chest.

He stared at her dark skin, the palm of her hand streaked with faint, red pricks from Cactus’ tongue. So entranced was he, the boy hadn’t even realized she’d wrapped her hand around his wrist until she spoke again.

“C’mon, I’ll help you up.”

_Help._

She was… _helping_ … him.

How many times had he asked for that very thing, only for blinding white walls and cold tile floors to answer him with harsh silence?

Somehow, the girl was able to lift him to his feet, grunting with only a bit of effort. It couldn’t have been an easy feat, with his thick, heavy frame, but she’d done so almost effortlessly. Without question.

 _Strong_.

Their eyes met, pink lighting up chocolate brown into amber honey. Heights matched, yet she felt him towering over her with his extra inch or so, wrapped up in his overall presence. Much like her favorite blanket on the chilliest fall day.

“I’m Connie.” 

She had hit him with her truck, the least she could offer him was her name. 

With a numb shock, the thought of offering him friendship, _companionship_ , ran through her. What kind of things did he like? Where did he find a Cactus that could walk and bark? Did he like any book series she hadn’t heard of yet? And, how could she get him to keep looking at her _like that_? Like she was fascinating and magical and-

Connie hadn’t even realized she was still holding on to his wrist up until that thought. Feeling her face flush a bit, she began to pull away.

“Steven.”

He said it firmly, proudly, as if he’d been _begging_ for the chance to say it. And maybe he was, if the way he was tenderly clutching onto her hand was any indication. Softly claiming Connie’s promise to stay with him.

_Woah._

Where had _that_ come from? That isn’t what she meant by that. (Whatever was that _supposed_ to mean, anyway?) Connie only wanted to help Steven ( _Steven._ Her new friend’s name was _Steven._ What a wonderfully _normal_ name for a very _obviously not normal_ , wonderful boy). Help him get to his destination, wherever that may be. Possibly even drop him off at a clinic.

And then what? 

Never see him again?

Wonder if this whole encounter was a fever dream from expired food and late night driving? 

No way. This was _real._ The reddening soreness of her hand and Steven’s light grip proved that enough. 

“Yip!” 

The two looked down at their feet only to be met with the happy face of a panting, round succulent. The plant rose herself up on her stubby hind legs to lean onto Steven and made playful little noises towards him.

“Oh! How could I be so rude?” Steven released Connie’s hand to pick up the excited plant animal hybrid. Connie, herself, was surprised at the painful ache his lack of touch caused, especially since her hand was still tender from the little ball of needles the boy was currently cradling. She certainly thought it’d be the other way around. Yet, Connie found her hand hurt _much more_ when Steven _wasn’t_ holding it. 

How odd. 

“This little _cuuuutie~_ is Cactus!” Steven’s cooing brought her distracted mind back to the conversation just in time to hear him introduce the miracle of science (the plant hybrid had to be some sort of experiment, right?). 

“She says sorry by the way...” He stated sheepishly, bringing the cactus to his face and snuggling her. Steven looked up to her with apologetic eyes and so did his prickly companion. Connie could feel herself melting at the adorableness of it all (though, she did flinch when she saw needles prod at his sunburnt skin). 

“Cactus?” The name finally registered after she got over the incredibly cute scene in front of her, causing a trickle of laughter to bubble from her lips. Steven, however, was too busy smushing his face into said succulent’s to pay proper attention to Connie’s poor attempt at stifling her mirth. 

“What?” He questioned, all sweet and innocent and _Steven._

Connie couldn’t wait to get to know him better.

“Nothing,” She conceded after composing herself. Then, genuinely, “It’s a great name!”

“Thank you!” 

And then he smiled so bright, the young woman almost thought the sun had risen. A quick glance to the sky proved it had yet to do so.

Connie shook her head, S shaped curls wisping softly just past her shoulders. She reached for Steven’s hand again, almost without her knowing. She had no idea why she kept using her injured hand, but before she could backtrack on her decision, Connie felt the comforting weight of Steven’s palm against her own.

She looked down at their interlocked hands between them and Connie marveled at how... easy this all felt. Sure, it was awkward and unconventional, but here they were. Only minutes after she ran into him and they were making jokes, holding hands.

Becoming friends. 

With Steven, it suddenly became so simple.

Connie shared her own shy smile with him as she tightened her grip on Steven’s hand. (She couldn't get enough of saying his name to herself... Steven, _Steven,_ **_Steven..._ **) The curious teen ignored the slight tinge of pain for the soothing balm of his surprisingly soft palm against her own calloused one. 

“Don’t thank me just yet, Steven. Let’s go get you patched up.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Art by the talented, amazing, WONDERFUL @namestakenbud


	2. Adding Fuel to the Fire (Utada: Day 1, Month 1)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After haplessly traveling through the desert for three days, luck finally smiles on Steven in the form of a kind stranger that offers him a ride in her truck. Little does he know, this stranger, Connie, is far too curious and intelligent for his own good.
> 
> How do you hide a secret you never wanted to keep?

The two older teenagers piled into her truck not too long after. The darker of the two having practically yanked the other into the vehicle, they set out on the road, together.

Though, not without polite protest.

Connie waved Steven's worries off nonchalantly, calmly cleaning and applying cream to her sore hand. As she returned her trusty safety kit to its home in the truck compartment, her own anxieties began to build slowly; thrumming quietly. 

What would her parents think of her picking up a random hitchhiker? Especially one as… _mysterious_ as Steven.

Surely they’d order her to come straight home. 

Connie’s summer road trip was part of an agreement. One part about finding herself, but mostly the point of the excursion was to prepare for her academic future. While Connie was furiously preparing for her impending graduation, things finally started to stabilize in her parents careers’. After years of constantly shifting schedules, her mother had some amazing prospects to pick from in terms of residency. Her father’s security job was pretty localized. So now, things just depended on where Priyanka finalized where she began her residency. 

With this slight lull to their usually hectic lives, Connie’s caregivers began to notice that their daughter didn’t seem particularly... _happy._

Sure, she was amiable enough, but it was the quiet realization that they never talked to Connie unless it was about how well she was doing in school that kept them both up late one night. Their daughter had always been a particularly quiet child, content usually to keep to herself and the book in her lap. She had a temper that rivaled her mother’s, but it never flared unless provoked. Their daughter was calm, intelligent, collected and everything the Maheswarans had groomed her to be.

But did that mean she was _happy?_

After a few more late-night conversations and deliberate observations, Connie’s parents came up with a plan; convince their daughter to take a gap year and find her _happy._

Connie was angry at first, probably the most visibly upset she let herself get around them. Wasn’t it enough that she put this crazy amount of pressure on herself due to their high expectations, but now they were _questioning_ her hard work? Her _feelings_? 

Could she _ever_ win with them?

It was only after a long, authentic conversation that she realized just how worried they were for her. Especially after the brief mention of seeing a professional, if she so pleased.

She swiftly declined. Connie could handle herself. Besides, she didn’t need another authoritative figure to disappoint. Surprisingly, her parents hadn’t pushed. She still wasn’t sure if she should be grateful for that…

Afterwards, they ironed out the details. Connie would take the summer after graduation, possibly longer, to tour schools. Then, she would start building up work experience with the extra time; whether that be through volunteer work, an internship, etc. The only catch was that she had to find something she actually enjoyed along the way. 

All of which sounded terrifying to do on her own.

Connie enjoyed a job well done. But now her parents, two of the hardest working people she’s ever known, were telling her that there was more to life than that. That life somehow consisted outside of the meticulously crafted path her parents had carved out for her since before she was born.

How was she ever supposed to know that?

Which is exactly why she’d agreed to this trip in the end, the severe lack of opportunity for her parent’s interference was really just icing on the cake. Connie could finally learn to think for herself now. 

Doug, Connie’s father, somehow managed to salvage his old pick up truck from his own teen years just in time to gift it to his daughter for her graduation. Up until then, the dark-skinned teen had been under the impression that her parents would help her rent a car. Apparently, fixing up the truck had been a passion project for her father since that early fall of her junior year when they’d first proposed the idea of a road trip to Connie. The studious young woman had to wear her glasses for the rest of the night because her constant tears kept blurring her contacts and irritating her eyes.

It wasn’t that affection was rare in their household, but more so that it was always so short-lived. 

The cyan colored pickup truck was a physical representation of their care for her that Connie would cherish for years to come. She barely heard her dad ranting about it’s attributes ( _‘The truck bed is just absolutely perfect for stargazing! The celestial events I’ve seen just from the back of this truck…’_ ) as she was struck by a distinct realization.

This gift was the moment that her parents had finally given her the steering wheel to her own life.

Connie knew she always had her parent’s love, but now…

Now, she finally had their trust. 

(And, of course, she just had to go and ruin it.) 

In the last three months of her trip, the high school graduate finally felt as if she was getting the hang of this independence thing. Connie was pretty independent and self-reliant already, but her parents lax attitude when it came to minor updates was certainly new. She could get away with not contacting her parents for, at most, four days (she’d run a few experiments at this point). There was something different about waking up and not having to immediately text her mom that she was in fact, awake. A task she’d been instructed to do while at the few sleepovers she was allowed to attend, all of which were hosted by family. Connie could now do as she pleased as long as she let her parents know that she was alive, eating and making progress on finding her _happy_. 

All because they _trusted_ her. 

For the first half of her trip, all she focused on was finding her _happy_ (whatever _that_ meant), almost obsessively. She set out to fulfill her parent’s instructions, mistaking the happiness portion of her trip to be the easiest.

How hard could it be to _actually_ be happy?

Connie treated the search as if she was gearing up for an important test, as if her happiness depended on some arbitrary, tallied score she would receive at the end of the trip. However, without the structure of school, she found herself frustrated with her options. Bored and irritated more often than not; wasting money on classes where she was either highly overqualified or had no actual concept on what the instructor was teaching was not exactly Connie’s idea of _“happy.”_ Soon enough though, signing up for local community classes Connie thought would look good on her resume slowly turned into weekly online creative courses. 

Who knew that her habit of writing poetry when she was twelve would actually be _useful?_ Connie didn’t even realize how many writing scholarships she already qualified for. In all honesty though, the ambitious teenager was just enjoying storytelling for the sake of it.

She didn’t realize it would all feel so easy. Connie had expected the hardship; the letdowns, the setbacks… Connie was totally prepared for this whole plan her parents conjured to disappoint her, she was used to it. Happiness had, obviously, caught her off guard... made her reckless. 

Because, if she truly was as _responsible_ as her parents _trusted_ her to be, then how did she get herself in a situation that her parents certainly _WOULD NOT_ approve of?

Mostly, because she was alone with a strange boy. 

(A strange, _sweet_ boy named Steven with a magnetism she couldn't explain… not even to herself… )

Why hadn’t she just called a cab for him? _Why_ was she so insistent on _her_ being the one to help him? 

Connie had always been pretty stubborn, but she had to wonder if she was just being outright stupid now. The young woman hadn’t accounted for the overwhelming feelings the addition of Steven’s large presence and… Cactus would cause. The already small cabin space shrunk significantly with her new passengers (though Cactus didn’t take up much space in Steven’s lap, Connie was rightfully cautious of the cactus’ needles). The anxious driver didn’t have nearly as much space as she was used to while thinking, usually chattering to herself in the emptiness of the car to fill it. 

But, now that Steven was here…

Connie _still_ had all these words and thoughts to share, but... she was afraid her interests and boundless curiosity would drive him away.

She had a tendency to do that. 

The two of them had been driving in complete silence for about half an hour. A languidly brightening sky the only thing differentiating anything from each other in the endless desert scenery that stretched on before them. The silence _might_ have had to do with the fact that as soon as Connie ensured Steven equipped his seat belt, the proverbial dam of questions burst forward. The sound of the revving ignition as she shifted into drive the symphony to her own racing thoughts.

“So, how long were you out in the desert for?” The inquisitive girl began as her tires crunched against the gravely road. Steven froze, paranoia clutching at his throat and tongue. His body automatically fell into the unspoken order of ‘ _Keep your mouth_ **_shut._ ** _’_ None of this seemed to deter Connie as she kept her contact lensed eyes on the long road ahead.

“By the looks of your clothes it had to be a while…” She paused briefly in consideration, before continuing in awe, “What did you even _eat_ out there? I have a few granola bars in the glove compartment if you want, but I’m running pretty low on water… Gosh, you didn’t _drink_ any cactus water, did you? You don’t think you have poisoning, do you?” Questions poured out of her faster than she had time to provide solutions for them, barely even registering that Steven hadn’t said a word (or Cactus’ shiver at the mention of drinking _cactus water_ ).

The pink eyed teen was too focused on trying not to open the truck door and barrel roll right back into the midst of the desert.

Steven knew she wasn’t doing it on purpose, knew she was just trying to help. That didn’t stop the bubbling feeling of resentment as dark memories plagued him. Each question she asked reminded him of the endless hours he spent begging people to answer his own as they stared apathetically at him. 

Reminded him that people only saw him as a source of information. 

“No worries,” Connie continued on cheerfully, never one to back down from a challenging situation. “I’m sure there’s a clinic or hospital we can-”

“ **_No!_ **” 

Steven bristled at the mention of hospitals, unchecked anger pulling him back to the present. 

Which was weird because prior to that statement, he was both _distinctly_ aware of where he was (and his exits), but he was also very much… not… there. Steven’s mind had taken him someplace far off and too close at the same time.

The facility didn’t have a hospital, or at least that wasn’t what it was necessarily called. Sometimes, he would be put under anesthesia and wake up in a different room than the one he slept in, his body worn after seemingly endless experimentation. Other times, he’d be pricked at for hours as they tested his blood, _again and again._ Steven had never _technically_ been to a hospital, but if they were anything like those rooms... He was sure he’d never want to go...

“ _No…!_ No hospitals...”

Again, this barely stalled Connie. She knew that most people had an aversion for such things, knew that most people didn’t practically grow up in doctor’s offices…

“It’s okay!” The young driver assured him confidently, “I’m way ahead schedule, so I can stay with you if you’re-”

“No!” 

As if someone had placed a filter over the rising sun, the entire cabin of the truck lit up a bright, blinding pink. Connie, startled, momentarily released the steering wheel before fighting with it to keep from swerving. Shielding her stinging eyes, the peeved driver scanned their surroundings for the source of the sudden burst of light. With no other cars on the road, she realized with a shocked gasp, 

_‘It’s coming from him.’_

Where _else_ could it be coming from? Except, last time she checked, people were not bioluminescent. As a people herself, she considered herself well versed in the matter on whether or not humans _glowed_. With a quick glance to the passenger seat, she confirmed what she already knew. 

_Steven_ was _glowing._

“No...” He repeated again, his tone much softer and heart-wrenching. Steven opened his eyes from their tightly shut position, only to gasp at his glowing. The boy knew he didn’t have the best handle on his powers, connected to his rather turbulent emotions as they were. He, however, had made a promise to himself while wandering the desert. Steven prided himself on his kindness, knew that his empathy was a quality he would never want to lose.

Still, no one could ever be the same after six years of constant systematic abuse. It was tiring, caring about everything and everyone when the people around him barely made it their responsibility that he eat. All that for no other reason than to use him, every part of him.

Steven would never let anyone take advantage of his sentimentality again. 

With a few deep breaths, a wall built over his feelings, and fortified thoughts of his precious mission, Steven’s glow faded to the rosy hue of his sunbeat skin. 

“Listen, I appreciate you. I _really_ do,” The weary boy began in a calculated tone Connie would have never expected of him, “You're a smart girl, Connie. I can tell,” The sad smile that came along with the compliment settled bittersweetly between them. 

Steven wasn’t even sure why he’d done so. There was no way she could have noticed the action with the way her gaze was glued to the vacant highway. So, the gesture served to comfort no one but him. 

And it didn’t even do that.

The young woman’s eyes had snapped forward once she confirmed the source of light. Immediately, her logic driven brain tried to scrape up the most plausible reason someone would have the ability to glow. 

_'Maybe it was from a passing airplane?_ ' But, then she would have heard it… 

Or maybe her late night eating was causing hallucinations? That made the most sense... except she’d _seen_ him make the glowing stop…! 

_'It’s…_ **_magic_.** _'_

Just as quickly as the thought passed, she spent equal time trying to stamp out the excitement that it’d caused in her.

( _She knew someone_ **_magical_ ** _, that would make her_ **_magical_ ** _too? Right? Right?? By association?_ ) 

_(She desperately hoped so._ ) 

Either way, that kind of magic only existed in stories. And, really, there wasn’t much magical about the clear stress Steven was going through. Connie may not have seen the sad smile her passenger gave her but, she felt her heart breaking all the same.

“You know this isn’t… normal.”

_Of course_ she knew that. Knew that as well as knowing cacti didn’t bark. 

Connie just didn’t care.

She supposed that revelation should have shocked her more than it did. In all fairness, the last half hour of her life had been nothing short of shocking, so maybe this was just her getting used to it. 

Getting used to being around Steven. 

Because even with his dodginess, his poorly concealed inner turmoil, the _glowing…_ Steven was kind, sweet and unlike any other person she’d ever met. Quite literally.

Being normal didn’t matter. Not to her. 

For the past seventeen years, Connie had been told to be normal, to _aim_ for normal. The adults in her life advised her to keep her head low, to quiet her quirks to appeal to something greater than her. Whether that be college prospects, or in de-escalating demoralizing situations such as bullying, Connie always felt as if she’d had to downplay herself. Yet, here was this boy who was _so strange_ and _weird_ and _existing_ right in her face-! She finally felt a lot less alone in the world. The feeling made her question why _should_ she care about how her life appealed to anyone but herself ? 

Normal had never brought Connie any happiness, anyway. 

“So?” Her tone firm , brown eyes never leaving their front-facing position, “What does that have to do with anything?”

The young woman had said it so cooly and offhandedly, Steven choked on the granola bar he’d helped himself to. Connie didn’t realize he had grabbed one in the midst of her thinking, but the image of his crumb ridden face had her snickering quietly. If Steven was being honest, her conviction was sweet. But, it was starting to get a bit irritating. 

He wasn’t going to let anyone else get involved in his mess. Especially not someone like Connie, who obviously had a long, successful life ahead of her that probably included her winning several awards. 

“Wha- It has everything to do with _everything_!” The stocky teen sputtered.

“Steven,” She giggled and his irritation both doubled and lessened, “Since I met you, I hit you with a car and you barely flinched,” She raised the pinky of her right hand, idly counting off. 

Steven didn’t have it in him to confess that he’d actually had enough wherewithal to _stop_ the truck before it actually hit him. It caught him in the side a bit but for the most part, his hand took the brunt of the impact. Connie hadn’t noticed the dent his hand caused just yet. _Selfishly_ , he hoped she wouldn’t notice it till he was long gone. He already felt guilty that he _selfishly_ wanted to keep Connie as a friend, too. 

Steven knew what the risk of being his friend was _all_ too well.

“You walk around with a cactus that _yips_ ,” The focused driver continued, now raising her right hand to showcase the number of things she was listing off, “You also _cuddle_ said cactus. As adorable as she is, she still has needles,” She stole another glance towards Steven only to find him doing the very thing she just described. Connie could only shake her head in an attempt to hide her amusement. 

“I think the glowing is the _least_ of our concerns,” And she could have left it at that, _should have_.

“My only real question is why,” Connie continued after a small beat, eyes decidedly _not_ on Steven.

“Why?”

“Yeah,” She’d started off simply enough, her curiosity comfortably cornered for the time being. That is until she caught Steven looking at her expectantly, waiting for her to continue speaking. With only a look, he granted her the courage and opportunity to take the stage, to share her most authentic self at that moment.

Which was a mistake, obviously.

“Liiiike,” She dragged on, still unsure how to handle the sort of constant attentiveness that seemed to come with Steven, “Why were you in the desert?”

Because once Connie got started on something, it was hard to get her to stop. The goal-oriented girl followed through on all of her endeavors with swift and due diligence.

“Why did you ask me for directions to the nearest town?” _'_ _Why are you running away? What are you running from? Who hurt you?'_

The questions in her head piled on top of each other, aching for release. The young sleuth had a process to gathering the information she wanted, especially when it came to her parents. In a household where no one was together for longer than an hour, this rapid fire method had always provided the best results.

That wasn’t the case with Steven, it seemed.

Too bad she was too busy _babbling_ to notice.

“Connie…”

“Why don't you like hospitals?” _'_ _Are you afraid of needles? Have you ever been to a hospital?'_

“Connie... please…” She wanted to account her lack of hearing him to the way he huddled into himself, the sound of the granola bar wrapper crunching between his thighs and muffling his quiet voice. Oddly enough, the crinkling only added to the vibrating static resonating in her head. Questions continued to burst from her like a broken, blocked up pipe.

“Why were you glowing? What makes you glow? Is it stress? When was the last time you ate?”

Connie wasn’t used to this. She wasn’t used to someone giving her the time and space to show even the slightest side of herself. She didn’t know any better, didn't know that she could take her time. Giving ample time to respond wasn’t something she’d ever been privy to, always rushing to be heard. In between conversations that happened far too fast for her wandering mind, and parents that she barely saw, Connie was well trained in giving and receiving information in a quick manner.

Not so much so at processing this information, though. That took _a lot_ longer.

“ _Grrrah_ , Stop asking me questions I can't answer!” Her passenger growled, barely stopping himself from glowing.

Like it took her a lot longer to realize that the questioning ~~_her incessant chatting_~~ was _hurting_ Steven.

She was _hurting_ her friend.

Connie heard him take several deep breaths, watching Cactus comfort him out of her peripheral vision, shame making her refuse to _actually_ look at him. How was it that a _plant_ (sentient or not) was a better support system than she was? Connie really needed to do better...

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have yell-”

“No, it’s okay.” She cut him off. Steven shouldn’t have had to apologize for _anything._ Not when she was the one who had provoked him, even if it had been unknowingly. Connie may not have gotten a lot of verbal answers from Steven, but everything he _didn’t_ say spoke and told her so much more than the things he _did_ say, “I’m sorry for prying. No hospitals, no questions. Got it.”

Steven flinched at that, the finality in her tone and her blatant acceptance causing his ever present guilt to flare. The lack of blame put him off, too. He was responsible for his powers and how they manifested… Either way, Steven really needed to get a good hold of his emotions so nothing like that happened again. Glowing randomly wasn’t the most inconspicuous of his powers…

“There’s a reason...” The desert worn teen groaned glumly, dragging his hand down his face. 

“I figured.”

He just _glowed…_ _Obviously_ , she knew there was a reason for his secrecy. At the very least, she had to have figured out where his reluctance to accept any help from her stemmed from. 

Still... he felt the need to clarify, to somehow... _redeem_ himself in her eyes. Stressed out or not, it wasn’t fair of Steven to take out his frustrations on someone as kind and helpful (and beautiful and smart and _resourceful_ and-) as Connie. 

He was raised better than that.

“No, seriously-”

“I believe you, Steven,” Connie stated softly. 

The same sad smile he sported earlier had absently slipped onto her face, brown eyes still focused on the road. Steven stared on helplessly as he felt his heart chipping away at itself; a twinge of despair settling in his chest cavity because she hadn’t shared the smile with him. 

How _selfish_ could he be? 

He wanted to know what she was thinking, to know she would maybe come to truly forgive him one day, even if he didn’t deserve it. Steven can see how she tried to fashion her face in a way that would convince him that she’s handling everything in stride. The tight grip the driver choked her steering wheel with said otherwise…

“It’s okay,” Connie continued in a careful tone. Steven was unsure if her voice was _actually_ shaky due to his paranoia or if her resolve had actually diminished, somewhat. 

He wasn’t particularly thrilled about either option…

“You don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want me to know.”

“I’m...” 

And he doesn’t understand _why_ her acceptance instills fear in him. Her compliance is both relieving and frightening and it confused him. It’s probably because he can’t seem to stamp out the feeling of _wanting_ to tell her everything. 

Steven _wanted_ to trust Connie. 

The anxious boy didn’t think he’d ever be foolish enough to ever feel that way again. Trust was rarely ever worth it, all the people he’d ever trusted either left or betrayed him in some way. He didn’t have it in him to be disappointed like that again also, he _never_ wanted to resent Connie. 

Still, the confession rolled around in his throat, threatening to push its way out of the safety of his mouth. 

“...I’m sorry,” He said instead, glumly turning his attention towards the window and effectively ending the conversation. 

He didn’t notice the slight shake to Connie’s hand as she momentarily fiddled with the radio. She jumped between a few stations before harshly turning it back off, shrouding them in a thick silence. Quiet enough that Steven was able to catch the shift in her breath as she fought to control her surmounting anxiety. This just caused Steven to feel all the more guilty, huddling up with Cactus’ ball-like body, her ever present needles pricking his chin.

After that, time passed by indiscriminately, the sandy scenery causing time to shorten and lengthen to the point where time meant nothing at all. Connie’s gas empty light started blinking at some point, emitting a soft sound as she swore underneath her breath. Steven spared her a glance, face carefully constructed into one of innocent nonchalance,

“Something wrong?”

Connie squinted at her dash, then groaned lightly, “Just gotta get some gas,” 

The annoyed driver huffed as she slunk further into her seat, not at all happy about having to partake in the monstrosity that was the gasoline & oil industry, “Though I could’ve _sworn_ I just filled her up…! I swear every time-” The irritated girl began to trail off, mumbling quietly to herself, certain that Steven was sick of her voice at this point.

He perked up a bit, straining slightly to hear the rest of her sentence. Once her rambling translated in his head, Steven jumped at the opportunity to be helpful, “There was a sign that we passed a minute ago,” He jutted his finger behind him, “It said there was a gas station a mile away, I think. Does that help?”

“Immensely!” Connie sighed out gratefully, gearing up to take the next turn off the highway into town. A hopeful feeling fluttered in his chest, something akin to pride filling him. He was good for more than just causing stress. 

He could be useful. 

“Maybe we can get you something to eat too,” She threw him a lazy smile and the uneasiness of the last hour began to melt away, “I’m really not sure how filling that granola bar could have been.”

Steven’s stomach answered Connie’s tease with a loud growl, informing the younger teen, _not very._

“You don’t need to worry about that,” 

“I think your stomach would be very angry with us both if I didn’t.”

And then he laughed. A full outright laugh that forced his eyes shut, shook his figure and stretched his face in the most bubbly of ways. They were still getting used to each other, there were bound to be bumps on this new road of friendship. Connie learned fast, though. Their small moment of tension may have caused some awkwardness but, it also taught her a lot about her new companion. She knew better now, knew how to be a better friend for him. 

The driver took the next exit, spotting the gas station right around the bend in the road. As she pulled up to the closest available pump, Connie thought that maybe she wasn’t so bad at this friend thing, after all.

She thought that all the way up until entering the gas station store when she realized; Connie had _absolutely no idea_ what Steven would even _want_ to eat! So confident was she after hearing his pealing chortles, she’d cooly assured the owner of such a beautiful laugh to “Sit tight!” while she went to pay for gas and acquire snacks. 

The flustered young woman began to pace up and down the snack aisle, silently berating herself for the lack of foresight. She then decided to rely on her other skills of intellect, racking her brain for the best solution. What would _she_ want to eat if she were in his situation? 

_Whatever that_ situation was… Would he ever trust her enough to tell her?

She allowed herself a moment of frustration, tugging at her scalp. For possibly the millionth time that hour, she wondered _how_ she had gotten herself caught in this situation. Connie didn’t want to take the time to admit that she had walked herself into this predicament _willingly_. The young woman searched aimlessly through the small store for a few before stumbling upon gold.

The gas station had a bakery section.

A bakery section with freshly baked biscuits.

Connie wasn’t one _quite_ particular to breakfast, eating more so for the sake of absorbing nutrients rather than enjoyment. However, with the way her mouth watered at the sight of the flaky, soft treat... she knew that she would enjoy them all the more because Steven would.

There was _that_ again. What was with these intrusive thoughts? What were they supposed to _mean_? 

Were they invasive if she didn’t entirely mind them?

She shook off that thought in order to focus on the task at hand. Connie ordered two of the baked goods, along with a small jar of strawberry jam. She walked out of the store with her head held high before ducking back into the building, suddenly remembering to give the cashier money for pump 4.

The teen felt herself humming happily as she gripped the paper bag (she was quite pleased with the eco-friendly option) with their goodies in one hand, nozzle in the other. Connie would have set the treats inside with Steven to free up her hands but, strangely enough, she wanted to surprise him. 

Even if it wouldn't be much of a surprise. 

Still, the titillation that ran through her as she felt his questioning eyes upon her, (quick glimpses of pink meeting her gaze before shifting not so innocently) served only to make her extremely giddy. She briefly wondered how in merely an hour she had become so attuned to the movement of another person’s actions. Usually, it took her months to understand when someone was teasing her out of friendliness and not necessarily mean-heartedness. She’d usually have to move before she could fully understand those nuances. 

But... With Steven? 

She barely even had to question him. 

The events of the last hour contradicted that statement, as she had questioned him _profusely._ That, however, was mostly due to her greedy need for information. The scholarly teen loved books and learning new things and Steven was just _so easy to read_ , like a well-written novel. 

He was so open.

Even with all his secrets.

And she’d _meant_ what she said; he _didn’t_ have to tell her anything he didn’t want her to know. That didn’t mean Connie could help herself from _wanting_ to know. Not only for selfish reasons, quenching her ever growing curiosity was second to gaining his trust. Nothing was more important to her in that moment than showing Steven that she was someone he could confide in.

How did one go about doing such a thing, though? 

She had tried to get him to open up but that only resulted in stressing him to the point of glowing and shutting her out. Connie usually focused on the other person in conversation, (they tended to be far more interesting than her, anyway). However, if she wanted to be considerate and smart about this delicate situation, she had to try a new tactic. One she had very little experience in.

Connie would have to talk about... herself. 

In a hopeful attempt to learn about him, she would have to tell Steven about her own dreams and fears. Because that’s what friends did, right? Share their deepest secrets and heartfelt emotions with the one person they could trust most in the world? 

She could do that, could be that person for Steven.

She supposed though, pondering idly to herself while placing the nozzle back in it’s slot on the pump; she should focus on sharing this meal with her new friend first.

“What’d’ya get?” Steven asked as soon as Connie opened the driver side door, greeting her with an aura of barely concealed excitement, “You didn’t put the bag down before filling up the tank so it’s _gotta_ be something good! Oh man, I’m so excited!” 

She stared on at him, awe freezing her in place as she witnessed the young man bloom in front of her. It was endearing and worrying that he was so enthusiastic about a meal from the gas station. A part of her disputed whether or not his naivete was a direct result of his mysterious situation or if the boy was generally this excitable over mundane things. Either way, it was sweet. 

“Oh- Uh... sorry...” Steven stopped abruptly, unnerved by Connie's unwavering stare, “I’m... I’m talking a lot, aren't I?”

“I don’t mind! Not at all!” The girl rushed forward to say, his weary, nervous chuckle sounding all too much like her own when embarrassed. She wanted to assure him that even _if_ he was talking a lot, she wanted to hear _every word._ Plus, there was absolutely _no way_ he talked any more than she did when she was given the opportunity to speak at length on her fixations and passions. 

“I _totally_ spaced on asking you what you wanted, but I’m sure you’ll like what I decided on,” Connie’s confidence was only _slightly_ faked as she prayed to every God and spirit that Steven wasn’t allergic to strawberries or gluten.

“Who’s to say for sure?” The eager teen eyed the paper bag between them, tone teasing as he bubbled over with exuberance, “You should _probably_ tell me what you got just to be sure.”

She pretended to think as she tapped her finger against her chin, the action inspired by his own mischievous nature, “Hmmmn _naaah_ ~” Connie retorted sing-songingly, “I wanna see if you can guess!”

“Connie!” 

Oh. 

It was the first time he’d said her name in such an engaging tone (like he _enjoyed_ being around her), she wasn’t expecting for the simplicity and elation of it to rock her world the way it did.

Her name on his tongue was more fulfilling than any meal could be. 

An excited tumble of some of his favorite snacks ( _‘If I’m being honest I’m really hoping for some Cookie Cats. They may be extinct, but we never forget a fallen soldier! Oooooo, you know what I haven’t had bar-b-que Chaaaps in a while! Maybe you got that? Nah, it can’t be that…’_ ) spilled out of him. She committed each treat to memory as best she could, delighted by his willingness to talk to her. An hour ago, she could barely get a word out of him. Now, here he was, _engaging_ with her. 

No longer tolerating her, no longer waiting for the other shoe to drop. Or, at the very least, she hoped. 

The young, smiling woman really loved seeing him like this, a feeling of familiarity bubbled up in her chest as looking at him gush about one snack compared to another felt like looking in a mirror.

Connie felt like she was seeing a piece of herself she didn’t know she’d ever needed to find.

She giggled, playfully shaking her head _‘No’_ at all of his incorrect guesses, which were getting more and more absurd as he went on.

“Okay, so if it’s _nooot_ a triple chocolate banana boat sundae special the size of the moon,” His large, bulky arms raised and spread int a wide circle to add to his dramatic imagery, “Then what could _possibly_ be in this little brown paper bag?”

Overridden with laughter, Connie only had the strength to hand the bag over to him. The giggly girl continued to lose herself in her amusement as she awaited Steven’s reaction. He (along with a curious Cactus) excitedly peeked into the bag as she snorted into her hand. 

“Oh...” He’d said it softly. Connie would have mistaken the tone for disappointment if it weren’t for the slowly widening smile on his face. She still couldn’t help but taunt him, beginning to see the appeal in friendly banter.

“Yeah, ha ha... Sorry it’s not moon sized ice cream.” She didn’t mean for it to sound so sincere, the girl definitely needed more practice in the department of teasing. Oftentimes, the kids she tried to become friends with criticized her for taking things far too seriously. Connie opened her mouth to take the heaviness out of her statement but Steven was quicker than her.

“Connie no, this…” His bright pink eyes shimmered with his own sincerity, and the intensity of it caused her to turn in her seat and flush the same color of his irises, “This is perfect!”

She shifted, a tad uncomfortable with the amount of attention divested entirely to her. Connie ignored the fluttering in her stomach as she reached to turn the car on, choosing instead to focus on driving once more.

“Well I’m glad! You can go ahead and start eating, I’ll eat mine at the hotel,” The driver quipped decisively. 

Connie’s father had, thankfully, only gifted her the truck and not his poor driving skills. She made a point to lessen the probability of any distractions as she drove. Her crashing into Steven had been her first casualty since owning the cyan colored vehicle. 

She planned to make it her last. 

(Though, realistically, she knew that cars were just more likely to cause accidents than not. That was just fact. Still, she didn’t want to make a habit out of crashing into random people.)

“I hate eating and driving,” She finished offhandedly, reaching for the gearshift. Her arm absentmindedly hooked around the passenger, her body falling into the practiced pose for reversing.

“You’re not gonna eat with me?”

The question made her pause, her gaze boring into his own. Sienna brown eyes freezing in their journey to check the rear window. The momentary stillness gave the driver the chance to realize that her arm was practically wrapped around Steven’s shoulder. The skin of her bare arm whispered against the collar of his suit.

“I-I mean I can…” Connie quickly removed her arm from around him, explaining her shiftness away due to her idling engine. She’d just filled up her tank, wasting gas was not fiscally responsible and she was _responsible_. Which is why she didn’t eat and drive. 

“I just can’t really focus on driv-”

“Then don’t drive,” Steven’s larger hand enveloped over her smaller one after cutting off the ignition. The calm command and his overall _softness_ had her body reacting in all sorts of ways she only felt when playing sports. All she was doing was sitting and letting him hold her hand, why did it feel like she was in the middle of a tennis match? 

“Let’s just focus on eating,” The thick-limbed teenager stated happily. With a quick flash of a smile, he removed her hand off of the ignition, before reaching into the bag and pulling the items out one by one. Starting with the jar of locally harvested strawberry jam, Steven carefully set the glass container on the dashboard, “Okay, Strawberry?”

The nickname, the slight giggle and overall sweetness exuding from him was all parts inspiring and infectious. Connie didn’t really know what this feeling was, but she was smart enough to deduce that Steven was the cause of this… weird emotion. 

This must have been what friendship felt like. 

The hotel was only a few hours away at this point, and she would definitely make it there before check-in. They had time. She could indulge for a few minutes.

The kind-hearted boy offered her one of the flaky goods, the smile on his face making her feel like the warm, melty butter that was spread along the treat. Connie accepted it and returned his smile with a bashful,

“Okay, Biscuit.”

With that, the young woman pulled out her reusable utensils, blushing as Steven complimented its purple-blue color palette, and spread the sweet jam on the soft biscuits. They both picked up their respective treat, the smaller of the two muttering cheerfully,

“ _Itadakimasu!_ ”

“What’s that mean?”

The bookish girl hadn’t even realized she’d said the phrase loud enough to be heard. She picked up the habit of saying the short grace before eating long ago, when she first started watching anime in her pre-teenage years. In a noble feat to overcome her humiliation, she pushed herself to explain.

She is going to be authentic and share herself. If she wanted Steven to trust her…

She had to trust him.

“Oh! It’s a common Japanese phrase. It’s like saying _‘Let’s eat!’_ ”

“You know how to speak Japanese?!?” She thought his incredulous expression would offend her more, but the way he said it, the awe in his tone… she couldn’t help but feel flattered. 

“Only a few phrases, I can barely hold a conversation!” The intelligent young woman waved off his shock, ignoring the way his amazed look made her feel. And because the prideful, competitive side of her never knew how to shut up and she found that she _liked_ the way he was looking at her, Connie continued (only a tad cockily), “I do know Tamil, Chinese, French and German, though.”

And if it were possible, he somehow looked even _more_ impressed with her. His soft lips deepened into an “O” and she could’ve sworn that there were actual stars in his eyes. 

“Woah, Connie! You are _so_ cool!”

“No way!” The girl laughed nervously, “I’m just a show off!” Connie, unused to such unabashed praise without any effort on her part, automatically made light of her achievements. She couldn’t accept all his compliments when she barely did anything to earn it. She hadn’t even made any good on her promise to get him looked over. “You don’t know _what_ I had to do to pass Chinese before I graduated high school...”

It was as if Connie had mentioned something forbidden, because Steven froze up and clutched at his stomach. That ever blossoming openness about him shutting down unexpectedly.

“Steven…”

Looking directly at him like she was, this time she was able to see the obvious shift in his face; the way his features fell into a poor imitation of cool indifference. Connie watched helplessly as he gently placed his mostly eaten biscuit on the dash. Cactus stood on her hind legs on his lap to sniff at the treat; Connie wished the cuteness of such an image could distract her from the sudden chill that fell over the truck cabin. 

(It didn’t.)

“Are-are you finished with your food? Is something wrong?” 

She was doing it again.

Fitfully spouting off at the mouth and saying anything she could think to balm the tension between them. Though, she couldn’t help it! Steven looked as if he were about to bolt any second, though (again) she had _no idea_ why. Connie had the passing thought of locking her doors before mentally slapping herself. 

That was no way to be a friend.

She couldn’t _force_ him to stay.

“Connie, I-” He took a deep breath, using the moment to both recenter himself and reposition his succulent companion between his arms, “I should let you get back to your life...”

“What does that mean?” Anxiety gripped at her nerve endings, and it was a feeling that was all too familiar. She recognized the signs of someone preparing to say goodbye, having had to do so herself most her life. 

After a short pause that seemed to stretch on for a century, Steven answered her, fumbling slightly,

“ _Ita-da-ki-ma-su_...”

“Huh?” Connie tilted her head, confused that he would use the phrase at this moment. She hadn’t particularly clarified that it was usually said at the _beginning_ of a meal. Still, it was weird that _that_ was how he’d decided to respond.

“Uh. Oh, I was trying-” He didn’t want to say _‘I was trying to be clever, like you,’_ even though that’s _exactly_ what he was doing. Instead, he cleared his throat to stabilize his shaky voice, looking Connie directly in her eyes so she can sense his authenticity and gratitude, 

“It means thank you for the biscuits and jam, for _everything.._.” He implored, unsure if he could ever truly express how appreciative he was of running into this incredibly remarkable person. It’d been forever since he'd been around another person his age. Connie made him feel like a kid again.

He really didn’t want to leave her.

(Which is exactly why he had to.) 

He secured his hold on Cactus once more, sadness coating his words as he shuffled closer to the passenger side door. 

“But, really, I’m a lot more trouble than I’m worth-!” The laugh he tried to force out unnerved Connie. It made her wonder just how many laughs he’d had to fake… Made her wonder if the laughs they shared were also carefully orchestrated or genuine...

_When was the last time he genuinely laughed?_

She still had so many questions for him to answer. So much more time she wanted to spend with him…

Connie’s gaze caught on to his wide set hand on the door handle and she could feel herself freezing up, blood rushing loudly in her ears. 

“I should be okay from here,” Steven said, but she barely heard him, all her focus on the hand on the door handle.

It was probably really foolish of her to think that she could run into someone and then just decide to be their friend, (no matter how much that person did or didn’t actually care about being hit). Honestly, Connie should be _grateful_ she even got the chance to _meet_ someone like Steven. With a decreasing resolve, Connie began the bitter process of accepting that her life was to be littered with half formed friendships. Still though, she can feel her eyes flicker to catch each movement of his hand, the five fingers moving together to turn the handle,

“You’re so amazing, Connie… I’m really glad I got to meet you.” 

With that and a smile that was way too small to be genuine, Steven pushed against the door.

* * *

The bulky teen blinked, unexpectedly squishing against the door as he had pushed with most of his weight. However, the passenger side entrance refused to budge. A fact proved by the unyielding handle that Steven fiddled with momentarily. 

That was probably because Connie had locked the doors.

He threw her an incredulous look, this one lacking the admiration from before and now just pure confusion. His pink eyes settled upon her features, the emotion he found there not entirely easy to read. Connie’s eyebrows were drawn down in righteousness yet, her mouth squirmed with guilt; eyes tight with forced calm.

“Okay,” She began shakily, leveling Steven with a glare that rendered him into stillness, “I’m trying to be a good friend here, I don’t have a lot of experience, so forgive me. But- What the hell, Steven!?”

The swear caught him a bit off guard, as she had started off so diplomatically. In light of his pause, the brown skinned teen didn’t bother waiting for an answer, barreling onward in her rant. Though, to be fair, she probably wouldn’t have afforded him the chance to speak, even if he could. 

“I get that there are some things you can’t tell me for whatever those reasons may be, I respect that! But, I’m _worried_!” She didn’t want to admit that there was more that she was worried about than his well-being.

Connie was worried that she’d miss out on an amazing friendship; afraid that the one decision she made wholly for herself would never flourish into nothing more than a chance meeting. 

How selfish was that?

“You shouldn’t be!” 

That was a lie, Connie could tell instantly by that annoyingly fake smile and the way he avoided her gaze.

In Steven’s defense, he could barely remember the last time someone cared enough to worry about him. A quick image of an older dark-skinned man with thick curls flashed through his mind, along with brief memories of the Crystal Gems and his dad… before he refocused on the present and the enigma of a person in front of him.

“That doesn’t change the fact that I am!” She implored. After a moment, she softened, tentatively reaching out her hand and placing it firmly on his shoulder after a brief internal debate. Steven was so _free_ with his comforting touch and she admired that about him. She wanted to give him some of that same comfort, “Steven… whatever it is, I want to help. I _want_ to know you’re okay.”

Steven was good at reading people, could usually tell what they were thinking and the things they needed from him with a mere glance. He spent a good amount of time avoiding looking at anyone at the facility for that very reason, disgusted by some of the scientists' perverse interest in his… alienness. But, when he looked at Connie’s face, all he saw was determination, passion and sympathy. And he really should’ve tried harder to keep his secret, _should’ve_ looked anywhere but her warm, inviting eyes, _should’ve_ been anywhere but in that cramped truck cabin-! 

Yet, as all the things he _should’ve_ done to prevent this exact moment made themselves abundantly clear, he still felt himself open his mouth.

Steven didn’t tell her everything; nothing about the Gems and the horribly inhumane experiments he went through. There were just some events he couldn’t bring himself to relive. So, for the better part of an hour, the sun-worn teen revealed that he had been taken away from his family six years ago and was now running from the United States Government. Cactus napped on happily in his lap, the slight pressure from her thorns grounding him.

“So…” Connie pondered curiously after some time. She sounded almost as if she was deciding what to have for dinner, not as if she had just been told that she was currently breaking several laws, “You’re basically like a fugitive?”

“A fugi-what now?” Steven was equal parts confused by her casual acceptance and the unfamiliar word. He was honestly surprised she still had questions for him; surprised she wanted anything to do with him that didn’t involve kicking him out of her truck like he deserved. 

“A fugitive!” Connie, never one to skip out on a teaching opportunity, (and sensing that six years held against his will by their fascist, tyrannical government _might_ have caused a gap in Steven’s learning), was more than happy to provide a definition, “Ya know, it’s like someone who’s on the run and hiding to avoid getting caught by whomever they’re running from.” 

Steven nodded in quiet understanding, before a look of realization settled over his face,“So, kinda like _‘No Home Boys’?”_ He whispered almost reverently.

“What?”

“N-nothing!” Steven felt his cheeks flush with embarrassment, as _he_ had now been the one to accidentally reveal a precious piece of media from his adolescent years. How did the conversation take this turn anyways? How was he still in this truck talking with this amazing girl, and not left flat out on his ass the minute she realized he was a criminal? “It’s just a book!”

“Did you mean one of the greatest book series to exist?” The girl began excitedly, jumping onto her knees and bouncing with joy. So she _had_ heard him right! She didn’t think anyone else her age still knew about the novel series. Connie babbled on, “Only to be ruined by it’s graphic novel remake that ignored all the social commentary on mid-western society in the late-antebellum period that was central to the original plot?"

“Wow…” He still wasn’t quite used to Connie’s chatting. No one had talked to him just to… _talk_ to him since… well... 

The only other person he knew that spoke in the same quick, intelligent way as Connie was Pearl.

“You’re like… _super_ smart…” Steven managed to utter after a beat. He’s only _somewhat_ distracted by the pretty way redness lit up her dark cheeks due to his compliment, comprehension dawning on him belatedly, “Wait, you know _‘No Home Boys’_ ?”

Connie appreciated how the question sounded like he was _genuinely_ asking. She was entirely too used to boys gate-keeping, trying to dictate to her what she did and didn’t like.

“How could I not? I’ve only read it like five times!”

She laughed again after that, Steven joining in not too long after. Then, it felt as if they’d been laughing for too long, which only made them chuckle harder. Every time their giggles quieted to small spurts, one of them would catch the other’s eye and start laughing all over again. 

Connie realized that, albeit a bit guiltily, _this_ is why she locked him in the car with her. 

She didn't want to think too hard about how terrible that sounded, keeping him with her because she thought Steven was a person worth holding on to. Even with their moments of awkwardness and tension, she’d laughed and smiled more in the presence of this strange boy than she ever had with anyone else.

In the lull of their merriment, Steven confessed with a lazy smile, 

“I can’t believe I just told you I'm a fugitive and then we just talked about my favorite book series,” He chuckled softly, throat sore from overuse and lack of hydration. She pulled a water bottle from her side door compartment, the other one next to it half full from her occasional sipping. Connie hated paying for water, but still made the mental note to pick up some more once she got settled in the hotel. He accepted the bottle gratefully, thick fingers grazing against thin ones lightly in the exchange as he stated softly, “You’re crazy, Connie.”

“Heh, I’ve heard that before...” _Crazy annoying, over excited about the stupidest things, somehow too cautious and impulsive at the same time._ She watched as he took a long sip, not necessarily aware of how weird that was, not even when he turned his attention back to her.

She was too focused on memorizing the look of adoration on his face. The observant girl wanted to remember and record every action she’d done in the past five minutes. That way, she would know _exactly_ what to do in order to get him to look at her with unfiltered admiration whenever she wanted. 

“Have you also heard that you’re a good person?” He asked with half lidded eyes, head coked lazily to the side, “Because you are.”

It’s only then that she felt embarrassment catch up to her. Yet, she is unable to remove her eyes from their locked position, gazing into his own despite it.

“Thanks for listening,” Steven expressed genuinely before reaching for the last bite of his biscuit and finishing it off. The action and her buzzing nerves prompted Connie to stuff the rest of her biscuit in her face, crumbs falling out of her mouth as she continued to do things her parents disapproved of. Like speaking with a full mouth.

“Of course!”

After another shared laughing fit, Connie began to reposition herself in the driver’s seat. Silence stretched noticeably between them as she flexed her long legs. While the weight of the quietness was much lighter, there was still an anxiousness that charged through the air 

“You-” The curly haired boy began suddenly, “You're not going to tell anyone? Are you?”

“What? Of course not!” Connie assured him immediately. From what he told her, Steven was another casualty of the militia-like force the U.S. government used in the delicate matters of documentation and legalization. Steven told her he was thirteen when he was forcibly taken away from his family… There was no way _he_ could have been faulted for that, no matter what their current laws said. She gripped his bicep reassuringly, the action coming easier to her the more that Steven allowed it. 

Like with most things, practice made permanent. 

“I told you I want to help, I wouldn’t rat you out!”

Connie released his arm, using her hand instead to turn the ignition and awaken the engine. It was high time they got moving. They’d just sat in a gas station parking lot for the better part of an hour, an action that was suspicious enough without the added fact that she had a fugitive in her car. 

“Besides, I have a promise to make good on! We should start making our way to the hotel so I-”

“Wait wait, you're...?” Steven shook his head, floofy curls bouncing as he grasped to understand what was happening. “You still want to be around me? Even after everything I told you?”

Connie’s hand hovered over the gear shift, Steven’s interruption causing her to pause in the action. 

Because, _realistically,_ the _smart, responsible_ thing to do would have been to drop him off somewhere that was lowly populated. If she could spare it, she probably would have given him a few hundred dollars and then wished him the best in his endeavors. 

But that’s _not_ what she wanted. And Steven had asked her, in not so many words, about what _she_ wanted. He was the first person to ever do so.

_Of course_ she wanted to be around him.

“You won’t let me take you to a hospital. That makes _a lot_ of sense now,” Her hand finally settled on top of the stick, shifting into first gear as she continued talking, “But let me at least look you over, before you decide to go off on your own and do who knows what.” 

Connie forced down the disappointment her own words caused, her statement inadvertently giving Steven the option her locked car doors do not. 

She knew that people and friends were not things to be kept and the socially lacking teen didn’t want to suffocate him. Still, she can’t help the terror coursing through her at the thought of Steven going off on his own; merely hoping it’s an option he never decided to take. She didn’t want to think too hard about the implications of such a self-admission. 

“I owe you that much,” the statement came out of her factually, eyes locking with his briefly.

“You don’t owe me anything.”

“I hit you with my truck and you didn’t sue me,” 

Not like he actually could, in his predicament, but still. 

“I owe you _a lot,_ ” Connie said in an inarguable tone she picked up from her mother, devotedly checking her mirrors and immediate surroundings. She would have left it at that, but pushed by a sudden need to be transparent with him, the driver quickly admitted, “And in all honesty? I still have a lot of questions _buuuuuuuut_ I don’t want to overwhelm you anymore than I already have…” She winced sheepishly, granting him a guilt-ridden grin before shifting into reverse. 

“More importantly, when was the last time you slept in a bed or took a proper shower?”

She wasn’t entirely sure if it was her proximity to him, (she’d thrown her arm across the back of his seat again while asking) or the actual question itself that had caused Steven’s reaction. He gave her a screwed up look of indignance as he sputtered to answer, before he realized he actually _couldn’t_ remember the last time. He doubted the sleeping mat in his room ( _not his anymore, never again_ ) and the five minute blasts of cold water that usually started off his daily routine was what she meant. Luckily, for Steven, Connie took his lack of response as answer enough. 

“Exactly,” The driver settled her right hand on the steering wheel as she continued to speak in a bargaining tone, 

“Whaddya say? I get some questions answered, you get somewhere to sleep tonight. Good deal, don’t you think?” She’d said it with such a note of certitude, _clearly_ not truly looking for an answer as she decisively pulled out of the gas station, tank full once more.

The desert torn teen stared at her, on the verge of gawking almost. Emotions swirled within him, clamoring and all competing for his attention. Steven found that all he could solely focus on was the captivating and extremely thoughtful young woman driving next to him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Follow https://suwantedau.tumblr.com/ for updates and more content!


	3. Checking In; Letting It All Out (Utada: Day 1, Month 1)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Connie takes Steven back to her hotel, they begin to learn what it truly means to trust someone.

They arrived at the hotel right before noon. Like at the gas station, Connie left Steven and his plant companion behind to hide out in the truck. Unlike a few hours previously, however, the seventeen year old was much more aware of her surroundings. The distant sound of sirens blared as if they were right in her ear while she made idle conversation with the hotel clerk. After receiving the key, she exited the lobby and made her way back to her truck in order to park closer to her room. More than a little relieved to see it, and the passengers within, exactly where she’d left them. Considering her new companion’s situation, she couldn’t help the fear that her car would randomly get searched, or someone would see Steven and recognize him. 

Or even worse, Steven would just disappear, without a trace. 

Despite the tingling feeling of anxiety that threatened to take over, she hoped she hid it well. Connie didn’t want Steven thinking she was having second thoughts. Though, the young woman couldn’t help the plausible concerns she had about her vehicle or Steven’s willingness to leave her in the name of safety. 

There were several entrances to the hotel building, which made it incredibly easy to avoid the lobby and other areas that ran rampant with staff. Connie hadn’t bothered to check the policy on pets since she wasn’t traveling with any (prior to Steven). However, seeing as Cactus _technically_ didn’t have any dander and was…

Well..., 

An actual _cactus_... She thought it to be a moot point. Broken hotel rules were the least of her worries, honestly.

Connie was harbouring a fugitive.

A bolt of something akin to a mix of purpose, excitement and apprehension ran throughout her body as the morning’s events began to truly settle into her. Only this time yesterday, she was the local regular ol’ nobody. Connie Maheswaran; incredibly lame and desperately grasping at something bigger than her. 

And today? 

Today… she’d made a friend.

The thought ran obsessively through her head as they walked together in comfortable silence to her assigned suite, Cactus cheerfully tailing along behind them. The lithe teen couldn’t believe that this _interesting_ , soft, sweet boy was _interested_ in her! Thought that _she_ was cool… _her!_ **_Connie!_**

A part of her berated herself for finding the whole situation so thrilling. 

She never thought she’d participate in much teenage rebellion, convinced it was a phase that she skipped over (or skipped over her, rather). The budding writer was content to create fantasies and live vicariously through them. Connie would have _never_ imagined that her own coming of age story would ever be anything like the stories she wrote, full of mystery and _magic._

“Wow…” Steven released a low whistle after Connie opened the door. The larger of the two took a slow turn around himself to take in the entirety of the suite. There was a kitchenette, with a large, long island separating it from the common area. There, a large futon with a flatscreen tv resting on a dresser right in front of it, a coffee table placed between the pieces of furniture. There was a closed door to his right that the young man guessed held the bedroom and bathroom. He watched with a small smile as Cactus bounded over to the sunlit window to bask, “This is nice…”

“Right?” She agreed sheepishly, closing the door behind her. 

“My parents are pretty frugal but, fortunately for us, hotels are super cheap in this part of the country!” Connie modestly smiled, a tiny bit proud of herself for convincing the older Maheswarans to indulge her in a bit of luxury during her road trip.

“...Your parents got this room for you?”

The question itself was innocent enough, so was the tone he used to ask it.

So, why did it make her feel so guilty? Why did she suddenly feel like shrinking into herself? 

(Probably because Steven hadn’t seen his family since he was _thirteen_ and she’d just insensitively brought up her parents.) 

Connie, as a brown skinned, assigned at birth female, was plenty aware of the intentional obstacles the U.S. government and their overall society plagued her, and others like her, with. Her lack of privilege was made glaringly obvious as she studied the truth about the country she lived in. However, Steven’s simple question had, in an instant, showed her just how privileged she was too.

The seventh unanswered text (from her mother, it was _always_ her mother) caused her phone to vibrate in her jean pocket, the smart device weighing her down like a pile of stones. 

“Yeah, they covered the cost for this one and a few others. But the other rooms were all paid by me!” She rushed in her answer, desperate to prove her independence. _She_ was the one that made all the arrangements for her accommodations, anyways… The _least_ her parents could do was make sure she had somewhere to sleep on this mandatory trip they’d sent her on... 

Connie wasn’t sure where the quiet, bubbling rage in the pit of her stomach had come from or what it was supposed to be directed at. Was she mad at her parents? 

Yes. Usually. 

But, did she have any reason to be? 

Guilt rolled alongside her rage like a first-mate, and she momentarily felt sick from the mix of emotions.

Priyanka and Doug Maheswaran didn’t always listen… or respect her boundaries... or speak to her in the way she needed… but they were always there for her, and that was- something... 

Right?

“Come on, let's get you seated so I can see if I banged you up too badly,” Swiftly deciding to bury those unpleasant thoughts for the time being, the lanky girl began to nudge Steven towards the futon. Although, not without a great amount of effort. He was easily almost double her weight. Unlike the times where she’d caught him off-guard, he was ready to resist her, heels barely scuffing against the carpeted floor as she pushed. 

“Connie!” He whined petulantly as she continued to bump against his frame with little luck, “I told you, I’m fine! I have been this whole time, I promise,” At that, he turned to face her. 

Connie, still adamant in her quest in moving the seemingly immovable boy, crashed unceremoniously into his chest. Her hands landed on his pectorals while he held onto her elbows in a joint effort to stabilize themselves. Steven knew he was only doing little to delay the inevitable, knew that looking him over would involve some state of undress. The identification number _‘859’_ tattooed underneath his left rib and the bright pink gem in his stomach revealed much more about himself than he was ready to tell. If he had his way, it would be a story she never had to hear. 

He would spare her as much as he could. 

Steven instead, delighted in the cute way she ignored her spreading blush to lecture him, 

“Still, what if you got a really bad bruise or even worse!” Determined in her endeavor, she pushed against him once more. He took a small step back towards the couch, but otherwise remained unmoved. She growled in frustration and Steven couldn’t help his amused grin, not expecting such a sound to come from her. She threw her hands up suddenly, almost smacking him if he hadn’t decided to take a few more steps out of her line of range. Connie was quick to follow, matching him step for step as she poked at his chest in emphasis.

“You could be suffering from _internal bleeding,_ ” The hand on her hip sat sassily, and he was so _enthralled_ by her and the way her finger tip grazed against the fabric on his chest, “And _neither_ of us would know,” Another step, another poke. He was entirely too entertained by her attitude, “Because you're being so _stubborn_!” With one last final poke from her at his front, Steven felt something poke against the back of his knees. 

It was then he realized, the passionate teen had managed to corner him to the suite’s couch, practically succeeding in her mission.

Oooh, she was _good._

Not one to back down from a challenge himself (even with all the odds set against him) Steven teased playfully,

“ _Weeeeelllll_ I don't think all this poking and pushing is helping,” And because her angry face was already so darn amusing (and he _only_ wanted to see if it could get any cuter), he flicked her nose, “Rude~” 

He watched as her eyes crossed to follow his finger. The dark toned teenager’s face shifting in between several emotions in such quick succession, Steven didn't have time to name them all. The whole scene had him laughing so hard, he doubled over to clutch at his stomach. He fell back into the futon with a loud **_‘whump’_ **, fully succumbing to his mirth as joyful streaks of tears trailed his sand-caked cheeks.

She sputtered indignantly, starting and failing to complete sentences before “Steven, _just take off your shirt!_ ” stupidly tumbled out of her mouth.

They’d had their fair share of silences in the time between them meeting and now. What Connie had learned in that short time was that silence didn’t always need to be filled. Two people in the same vicinity of each other _didn't_ always have to be talking; she didn’t have to take every opportunity to _prove_ she was interesting, not with Steven, at least. Sometimes, she could just sit and enjoy being alive in the presence of another person.

This was not one of those silences.

Mortified and very much wanting to be _anywhere but_ in the presence of another person (especially if all she was going to do was continually embarrass herself), Connie groaned, “Oh my god, _I can’t believe_ I just said that!”

The flustered girl slumped into a seat on the opposite end of the sofa, hands covering her face. She didn't want to see whatever judgmental look that was sure to be on Steven’s face. She also couldn’t see what look he was _actually_ giving her, which was an odd mixture of amusement and sympathy.

“Haha, me either…”

The admission only caused her to bury deeper into her sad-looking ball of a body. Why was she such a blabbermouth? Why was she always _so pushy?_

(She always took it too far.)

“I’m sorry about yelling...” Connie apologized, weakly.

The guilt she tried to bury from before returned in full force once again. Whatever confidence she had been feeling earlier about their slowly developing relationship was nowhere to be found now. What kind of person just forced their way into friendship? Was she really so desperate and pathetic that she needed to attach herself to the first person that paid attention to her? And to make matters _worse_ , she wasn’t even doing a good job at it! If she were more qualified for the position of being Steven’s friend, she _obviously_ wouldn’t be making dumb mistakes! Someone better equipped would have never been idiotic enough to do something like mentioning her parents to a guy who hadn’t seen his own in six years. Would have seen how uncomfortable questions made him _before_ he ended up glowing with stress. 

Steven instantly noticed the shift; guilt slipped through his nervous system as he realized he might have been laughing at Connie’s expense. Even if it was accidentally, that was no way to treat the selfless person that had saved him from the monotony of the desert. Connie, whether she knew it or not, had bought him some time and put distance between him and the agents that were bound to be on the pursuit for him. Since the minute he met her, Connie had been nothing but considerate, helpful and patient with him.

And how had he repaid her? Oh that’s right, with a dent in her grill he had yet to admit to! He’d aggravated her with his shadiness…

Had lost his temper and yelled at her...

...Lied to her... 

“No, Connie _I’m_ sorry!” He blurted out, moving just as suddenly across the couch. Their knees knocked together absently from the abruptness of his decision, the movement startling Connie out of her ball, She then came face to face with the misty eyed expression of the pink-eyed boy in front of her, 

“Gosh, you’re just trying to help and being _so nice_ and I don’t _deserve it!_ ” He tore his gaze from her face, unable to look her in the eye any longer. Whether that was due to his shame or the tears spilling over his lower lashes, he wasn’t sure, “...I’m a liar…”

The young woman stared at him incredulously for a moment, taking a much needed breath from the loops this emotional roller coaster was putting her through. Her new friend didn’t always make a lot of sense. She supposed she should have been more concerned with how used she was getting to the quirk but, instead, offered him a placating look. 

“Steven, look at me,” When the soft command didn’t broker a response, she chose, wisely, to take her time. Connie calmed the rushing breadth of nervousness with a deep breath, slowing down for his sake. So they both could understand each other better. 

Connie placed a comforting hand atop his own on his knee, and waited. He lifted his gaze back to hers much sooner than she thought he would. That made her smile and she could see how her genuine gesture put her friend at ease. They stayed in silence for another beat, before she gently prompted him,

“What are you talking about?”

“I-” He began shakily, before taking a moment to stabilize his voice, “At the gas station, I only told you... _some_ of the things I’ve been through… ” 

Which was _absolutely_ the smart thing to do. Steven had a plan and a mission to stick to.

(That plan didn’t consist of much more than ‘Get back to Beach City’ but Connie, quite literally, didn’t need to know that.)

He couldn’t complicate it any more by involving a civilian. 

(He kept telling himself that.) 

The pink-eyed teen was perfectly content being Connie’s acquaintance and moving on. 

(He kept telling himself that because _eventually,_ he’d believe it...) 

(Right?)

Steven was more than okay with chalking up this whole experience as a one-time fateful encounter, a memory to cherish and hold dear on the next leg of his journey.

(Except, _he wasn’t_ ). 

“Steven,” Connie’s cooling tone brought him out of the heat of his warring thoughts, her hand gripping his in support, “You don't have to tell me everything if you’re not ready! I understand there are some things that hurt too- ”

“No-” The curly haired boy interrupted, “I mean- I only told you what I thought you needed to hear...” 

Steven found he kept doing things like that; opening his mouth to provide authenticity instead of playing dumb or allowing the person to believe whatever conclusion they came to (a bad habit he had thought he’d grown out of whilst detained). She had given him a _clear_ out, yet he _insisted_ on honesty, and he wasn’t entirely sure why. Most of the people who had ever come in contact with him during his time in detainment took advantage of his honesty, twisting his words around into some convoluted theory until he himself was unsure of the original purpose of his statement. 

Connie had never done that, though.

Even with all her questions and her own insistence, Connie respected his boundaries when he made them clear and most importantly…

She _believed_ him.

And that was the major difference, he realized with a quiet shock, the reason for his ever present guilt finally revealing itself.

Because he was making _assumptions_ about her, treating her like she was one of the people who had plotted his kidnapping. Steven felt no better than the Institute scientists for his quick judgement and wrongful assumptions. She’d done _nothing_ at all to deserve his lies. 

Connie deserved the truth.

“I only told you what I thought I could get away with, I guess… So that way you wouldn't piece everything together… ”

He almost expected her to interrupt with a question, obvious by the inquisitive expression on her face that she _really_ wanted to. Surprisingly, she remained silent.

Simply watching him, not judging. 

Just waiting.

With a sigh, Steven Universe made a decision.

* * *

  
The bulky boy shifted slightly, granting himself a tad more wiggle room. He, then, unzipped his boiler suit down to his navel, using his free hand as his other was still being held by the girl next to him. The backs of his fingers grazing against the constant warm, buzzing of his gem felt different than the refreshing, cool feeling of her dark skin against his sunburnt flesh, he noted. Before he had the chance to properly slip his arms out of his sleeves, Connie’s mouth fell wide open. The involuntary twitch her hand made went unnoticed, far more preoccupied with the teeming questions taking over her mind. The words fell and melted into each other, dying quickly in her throat.

“...Is that-…?” She shut her mouth abruptly, allowing Steven the time he needed to undress and reveal himself. In the process, he removes his hand from hers and again. Again, she is surprised by the ache that came with that. She wondered briefly if he felt the same ache because soon after, he’s connecting their fingers, this time a top her lower thigh. 

Maybe, he just found comfort in touching another person.

It was possibly both. The two options sounded incredibly similar, if she thought about it. 

“I’m… a Crystal Gem.”

Steven pointed to the strange... crystal embedded in the place where his belly button should've been. Connie felt the fingers of the hand connected to hers twitch nervously.

“And before you ask me what that means, I _need_ to let you know that _this_ ” He tapped against his gem, “Is why I was taken away.” He clutched at the glassy surface of the stone, a faraway look slipping into his eyes. His dark pupils flickering as he momentarily traveled through painful thoughts. 

“Except, I _wasn’t_ taken away, I was _kidnapped._ I didn’t even _know_ they were coming for me…” Soft curls shifted against his forehead as he shook his head, trying to shake the feeling of despair that settled in his gut, “The government wanted to know more about Gems, mine in particular.” 

Steven sniffed sadly, tightening his grip on her before pulling away dejectedly,

“Connie, we-” 

His short breath caught on a sob he struggled to wrestle down his throat. He’d always had trouble speaking when he got so emotional, something that annoyed plenty of the facility psychologists and interrogators to no end. Steven let out a shaky sigh, sounding no less emotional and looking _extremely_ exhausted, “I-I have to let you get back to your normal life…” 

He’d said more after that, but Connie didn’t hear the rest of it. Her brain had halted and screeched at one the mention of one particular word the stone embezzled teen used. The phrase repeated obsessively in her mind, making her ears ring a high pitched, buzzing sound.

_...I have to let you get back to your normal life..._

_...get back to your_ _normal_ _... _

_..._ **_Normal_ ** **_…_ **

God, not _normal._ Why couldn’t Steven have used any other word? 

She _hated_ that word. 

_Normal_ burned in the space behind her eyes as past taunts from kids who never gave her the time of day called her ordinary, boring suddenly filled her senses. She was eleven years old again, wearing large red rain boots on a bright, cloudless summer day (she always wanted to be prepared to go puddle hopping). The bespeckled young girl half-heartedly swung on the swings. The two empty seats next to her boldly announcing her loneliness as the neighborhood children whispered to each other and pointed at her from the jungle gym.

Connie didn’t want _normal_. She never had. 

With Steven, Connie finally had what she wanted. 

( _Weirdness. Magic. A_ _friend._ )

Connie was never going back to _normal_.

“No…” She objected breathily. 

The quiet interruption goes unheard as Steven continued to speak on, though Connie can’t exactly follow his flow of thought. Not when it felt like her ears were stuffed with cotton and her attention focused solely on his bare chest. Her brown eyes scanned his torso, slightly alarmed by the amount of scars she found there. All of them were a faded, healed tone, denoting their age and informing the concerned teen that her truck hadn’t been the cause of their appearance. Connie’s eyes trailed over the thickness of his figure before settling along the number on his left side. The dark, black _‘859’_ tattooed there instantly caused her own eyes to water. The intelligent girl was able to deduce that if he had been _branded,_ (given a number, as if he didn’t _already have a name;_ as if he wasn’t _human_ ) then there wasn’t much else his kidnappers weren’t willing to do to force information from him. The scars suddenly made a lot more sense and Connie struggled to keep tears from flowing over. 

Steven shivered and sniffed again, it was only then that she realized she was touching him. With feather light pressure, her fingertips ran along the raised skin of the engraved _‘859.’_ The intimacy of the moment was lost on her, far more focused on the unfairness of his whole situation. The hybrid teen, blushed however, flushing a pink that could rival his glow.

“Your fingers’re cold…”

“Sorry…”

Finally, their eyes meet again, the glassiness of Connie’s having very little to do with her dried out contacts. The sad look on her face ate away at him, positively _hating_ that she’s on the verge of tears because of _him._

“Connie, I-”

“I lied too.”

The admission was cool and calculated, nothing like the babbling way she usually confesses. That, accompanied with the diplomatic ease she schooled her features caused a wave of anguish to crash into the half-gem teen. Because, he knew it... he _knew_ this was too good to be true. He’d made the dumb mistake of trusting someone again and _now_ they were going to hurt and leave him before he could get the chance to run away.

(Just like every other time.)

“When I said I just wanted to look you over,” Connie continued, “That was only part of it. I want to help you Steven. I-!” And she can see the lingering _‘Why?’_ loud and clear in his pink irises. The same question she’d been asking herself since crashing into Steven. Even now, she was hesitant to answer, the reasoning for her insistence equal parts righteous as it was selfish. 

“I haven’t had as much fun or felt this good about myself since, well, _ever._ ” She pondered for a moment, reconsidering the delivery of that sentence, “Which is kind of messed up but-! What I mean by that is I _like_ being around you, Steven.” She took that moment to finally remove her hand from his side only to wipe at the lone tear that falls down her cheek. With the heel of her palm against her right eye, Connie verbalizes her silent promise to Steven, the one she’d made to herself when she offered him a ride, “I will do _whatever_ it takes to make sure that you get where you need to go.”

He can feel the look of horror spreading along his face. While it would be a _dream come true_ to spend more time with her, he knew the longer she associated herself with him, the more danger she was put in.

“I -Connie... I can’t ask that of you...”

“I know. That’s why I’m offering.” She was giving him that same leveled gaze that allowed little room for argument. He still wasn’t sure how he could admire a quality and be so frustrated by it at the same time.

“You don’t know what you’re offering.”

That caused a shift in her solid expression, eyebrow flexing as his comment rubbed gratingly at her pride. Still, she continued in a calm, assured voice,

“Of course, I do. Or, I wouldn’t have offered.”

Deciding in that moment that he was more frustrated with her resoluteness than inspired by it, he couldn’t help the way his eyes rolled at her.

“Come _on,_ Connie! Get real, I’m on the run from the _government_ .” Fed up and antsy, Steven began to pace in front of the sofa, “You have no idea where I’m going! Have you ever even _heard_ of Beach City?” 

He’d be genuinely surprised if she did. He didn't know where Connie was from, but even if she had lived on the east side, the coastal city wasn’t exactly the most populated place. 

  
“Plus you- You have a whole life!” He turned to her suddenly, exasperation pouring out of him in droves as he began to list off anxiously, “Parents that love you, a family that will worry, friends-!”

She doesn’t have it in her to tell him how wrong he was about his last point. Doesn’t want to tell him how she hadn’t spoken to her extended family since her private graduation ceremony months ago. 

And her parents…?

Her parents had been almost suffocating, overruling in their love.

And she loved them! She truly and wholly loved her parents, always would... 

...But did that mean she should keep living for them?

When did she get to live for herself?

The moment she met Steven, she had stepped off the path her parents’ had set for her since before her birth. And she liked where this new path took her. More than liked it.

(Craved it.)

Connie, from now on, would be the sole decision maker on what would bring her the most joy. No one, not even Steven, would be able to stop her.

“Steven,” She said almost too calmly, halting his rambling words. She smiled gently, ignoring the fact that he was still shirtless as she held out her hand to him. He slipped into her grip easily, with the lack of hesitance that he handled physical affection, the sentiment soothing the ache in her heart momentarily. She tugged him towards her and gently coaxed him into sitting once more. Then, her eyes landed on his gem, truly confirming the silent knowledge that Steven was something other than human. 

(Still human though, he just came with… _extra_...)

Steven followed the journey her pupils took to his stone-encrusted navel, holding his breath for reasons he wasn’t entirely sure of.

“You just told me that random government agents, some of the same people that create and execute the laws in this country, kidnapped you,” Her tone was soft but firm, fingers idly playing with his own as she continued speaking, “They held you against your will because of something you were born with, something you couldn’t even control...Steven…” Bravely, she used her unoccupied hand to cradle his cheek before quietly imploring, “None of this is your fault! Do you really expect me to leave you?”

(So many others had.) 

“What kind of friend do you take me for?”

He tore his gaze away from hers, unable to take the way her brown irises shone with sympathy and emotions he wasn’t worth.

“Connie, please I…” He pulled away again, halting all the forms of casual touch with a foot of space he wanted to shrink the instant he created it, “You’ve been so kind to me, whatever debt you think you owe, you’ve paid it! I promise!”

“No, I haven't,” That inarguable tone returned in full force, and with it, so did his irritation, “I said I would help you.”

“And you have?” The tone he used tersely indignant, the back and forth wearing away at him.

“I could do more.”

“You don’t have to.”

“I want to.”

“Connie, I’m trying to protect you!”

“Well, then who’s going to protect you if you’re busy protecting everybody else?!”

“Don’t worry about that!”

Steven never thought he’d ever be so easily matched in an argument. He was incredibly stubborn, but it turned out, so was Connie. This did nothing to advance the conversation, as the both of them were certain they could persuade the other to agree with their point. Connie was more dangerous than any scientist and harder to sway than any gem. What was worse… 

She was _actually_ starting to convince him. 

“Steven, _please_ ,” The young woman pleaded in a way that made him just want to say _‘Yes’_ to whatever she wanted, resolve hanging on by a barely existent thread, “I have a truck! I’ll drive you to Beach City, _wherever_ it is! You're always guaranteed somewhere to sleep and something to eat-”

She was making far too many valid points, being entirely too caring and it’d been so long that anyone treated him with any decency, Steven wasn’t even sure he knew how to accept it. 

“ _Arrgh_ Connie! You can’t _make_ me accept your help!”

“ _Fine!_ ” She cracked, finally. She’d barely been the face of calm prior to his statement but something about his outright refusal had her poorly held together act crumbling right before his eyes, “Fine! If you really think it’s better to do this by yourself, then go ahead! Be my guest! I’ll never see you again and I’ll just go back to being alone and having no friends!”

“Wh- Connie…”

That struck a chord with Steven. No friends? That didn’t make any sense, how could Connie not have any friends? How could people not be _begging_ to hang out with her and see her everyday? Friendship was everything to Steven, considering all the people in his life prior to his kidnapping to be some of his closest friends. When the Crystal Gems were busy, he would always visit the boardwalk or his dad to escape the loneliness of the empty beach house. ...Is that truly why she’d been so adamant? Because she wanted to be his friend? 

What a concept. 

“I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to-”

“I-I want to be your friend, Connie,” Steven confessed against his better judgement. The _‘I don’t know if I should be’_ stuck in his throat as she rushed to grip both his bare shoulders, his gem glinting a rose pink between them. 

“Then let me help you!”

She saw her opening and took it. Quite literally, Connie took him by the hand.

Pushing her way back into his presence practically every time he pulled away, Connie’s devotion finally snapped what little was left of his resolve. He wanted to be ashamed by how happy that made him feel, to know that someone would fight for him. 

“We both have a lot of questions that need to be answered,” Sitting up on her knees, she’s taller than him. The bronze tone teen clutched his one hand between both of her own, overwhelming Steven with a feeling of safety, “Let’s find out those things together...” 

Encouraged by his lack of protest, her grip returned gently to his shoulders. Taking up his space in a way where his attention could be devoted to nothing else but the way sunlight streaked in from the window across her face, lighting up her determined smile, 

“Let's get you back home.” 

“You…’ He allowed the tears to flow freely down his face, no longer interested in stifling himself, “You’re really determined to do this, huh?”

“Yes.”

That was it. No explanation. No other reason than she desired to help him. So many questions and reasons why she shouldn’t stick her neck out for him still ran rampant in his head, but he was _tired_. Tired of fighting, of being alone, he began to sob. A true, proper cry that moistened his whole face and caused the pink of his irises to glow against the faint red background. Connie closed the distance between them, easing his head down to rest his head on his shoulder. He threw his arms about her, crushing her tiny figure into the thickness of his own.

“Thank you, Connie,” Large tears and liquid-y snot collected in the hollow of her neck but she didn’t have much presence of mind to be disgusted. Feeling the vibration of his words ring through her frame as she relished in his closeness, the emotionally wrought girl could feel her own tears finally falling, “I don’t know how I can ever repay you...”

“Don’t worry about that,” The tearful girl brushed her fingers through his hair, practically feeling the large teen purr against her as she marveled at its softness. As she picked tiny bits of sand from the swoop of his curls, she whispered sincerely, 

“What else are friends for?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thank Bud for blessing your eyes with the FANTASTIC ART  
> Follow https://suwantedau.tumblr.com/ for updates and more content!

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed! Continue staying safe <3
> 
> The wonderful, breathtaking art attached was created by Bud for the blog's 1K follower DTIYS! 
> 
> Make sure to follow the blog ( https://suwantedau.tumblr.com/ ) for updates and more WANTED AU related info!


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